There's Nothing Wrong With Us
by Malteser24
Summary: Four boys with four issues (that aren't really issues at all, but that do pose a slight problem every now and then) and the roller coaster ride of ups and downs and twists they travel together. Life isn't easy for average people, it's even more difficult for those who stray from the societal 'norm'. Trigger warnings for future references to attempted rape/non-con elements.
1. There's Just Something About You

**The usual disclaimer:  
**

 **I am not blind, mute, nor do I have ADHD (although I know people who do)**

 **I am bisexual, not asexual, and because of all this, I'm aiming to do my best to write correctly, and I am doing research to help, and not to offend anyone. If I've written anything that's incorrect or offensive please tell me so that I can fix it.**

 **I really hope you enjoy the story, I'm really proud of it.**

* * *

There are days where Phil wants to scream, to yell with rage, to cry, to sob. There are also times where he wants to laugh and squeal and shout with joy. But unfortunately, that's simply not a possibility.

Because Phil, is mute.

It's the way he's always been, his first word never came, so he doesn't know any differently. The doctors assured his parents that it's not a problem, he's not unhealthy or in danger, he just won't ever speak. Phil thinks it's something to do with undeveloped vocal chords or something, but he's not completely certain, as the medical mumble jumbo the doctors' spoke went in one ear and straight out the other.

When he was really young, before the days of popularity and teasing and who-likes-who being important, it didn't matter that he didn't speak. All of the other kids just assumed that he was just really shy and quiet, but it didn't stop them from playing with him.

High school was an inevitable obstacle, and one Phil was less than eager to even attempt to overcome. He wasn't a fool. Primary school had been seven years of kids who thought his 'muteness' was just one of his weird propensities. They'd accepted it as normal and nothing more had ever been said.

But high school meant new kids, strangers, who didn't know, didn't understand, and likely didn't want to.

The first three months were torture. His classmates teased him about his muteness, and although they weren't always physically abusive, the mental cruelty was damaging enough.

He'd never hated himself for being mute before, but he was quickly beginning to.

But then, an angel, or some other celestial entity smiled down on him, because one day he ran – literally – into a boy with straight brown hair and hipster-y glasses.

The boy's name was Chris, and he had been on his way to the office for his daily medication – mild ADHD.

Phil had waved his hands in an ill attempt to apologise without the words he was unable to conjure. Chris had been confused at first, but when Phil explained his…situation in excruciatingly neat handwriting on a torn piece of notepad paper – he always kept some folded in his pocket just in case – he was all prize-winning smiles and open hands.

Their friendship blossomed, and the rest is history.

* * *

"You're being ridiculous."

Phil grins as he observes his best friends' amusing couples' banter.

"I am not!" Chris protests.

Phil's pretty certain that PJ's staring at Chris. He's not sure _how_ , considering it's pretty much impossible, but he thinks PJ's found a way.

"I honestly believe that having a seeing-eye dog is a little too extravagant at the moment, not to mention ludicrous. I'm _barely_ seventeen, Chris. Besides, you're _way_ too clumsy for _me_ to have a bouncing animal around."

PJ grins, and Phil thinks the connection between the two is stranger than he had previously thought. Chris' low scoff is scarcely an indication of his indignation.

"Phil. Surely you're on my side?" Chris pleads.

Phil shakes his head, and knocks once on the table for PJ's benefit, their mutually agreed signal for _'no'_.

"Blasphemy!" Chris shouts.

"Well, actually –"

" _Treason_ , then."

Phil shakes his head softly – but if he's being completely honest, he finds it more endearing than anything.

PJ runs his hand up Chris' arm and taps his shoulder.

"Come here," He says, and Chris turns his head.

PJ cups Chris' cheek and they share a soft, short and sweet kiss.

Phil scribbles a sentence onto a scrap of paper.

" _'Your PDA makes me wish_ I _was blind'._ Gee, thanks, Phil. Tell us what you _really_ think." Chris scoffs.

He laughs though, as does PJ, and although Phil's giggling internally, he wishes he could make actual sounds.

* * *

Phil has to admit that all three of them are very lucky, considering they only have two classes separate.

It could be worse.

It's just that, sometimes…sometimes, when Phil's hiding out in the back corner of a classroom, he has mental flashbacks of bad times, and it induces slight anxiety. He imagines that people are whispering about him, that when they glance over they're _looking_ at him, that they're _talking about him_ …and it makes concentrating a little hard,

It's probably a causal effect of his muteness, but Phil's a fairly shy, reserved person. And he always worries too much about if people are talking about him, because he doesn't know what they're saying if they are. Which makes it pretty hard to make friends – amongst other contributors.

* * *

Phil regrets sitting in the back, at a table with a empty seat beside him – the only empty seat in the whole room – when his Psychology teacher announces the arrival of a new student.

The fact that the new student is really cute, and Phil's only recently accepted the existence of his bisexuality, doesn't really help matters much.

"This is Dan, and he'll be joining our class this semester, so don't be jerks," The teacher says.

There's a chorus of laughter that spreads around the room.

"You can sit next to…Phil."

There's a few muffled sniggers as the teacher looks over at Phil, but he doesn't make any visible gesture to indicate he's heard anything.

He's too busy having an internal breakdown, because this new kid – Dan – doesn't know about his, _condition_ , and he'll have to go through the same painful attempt to explain his situation, which will just result in an awkward, tense atmosphere and another person who thinks he's a freak.

 _Joy._

Dan smiles, and Phil tries, he attempts to return it, weakly, but he tries.

"Hi," Dan says, and Phil's hopes that Dan would just ignore him, like pretty much everyone else, escape out the window.

Phil waves, and although Dan's eyebrows narrow, he keeps quiet.

* * *

The lesson passes with no fuss, and when the bell goes Phil's grateful - he can finally escape.

No chance.

"Hey, so I know I'm new and everything, but I was wondering if, maybe, I could hang out with you? I don't know anybody, that's all."

Phil feels immensely horrible, and he tries to convey everything he wants to say through his expression - his hands are too busy holding his stuff - but he's not quite sure how to.

"Uh, hello? Can you hear me, or are you just being a jerk."

Dan's getting agitated, Phil can tell, and he hates it, he hates when anyone's angry or upset - but he can't do anything...can't say anything.

"Wow, I know I'm new and everything, but you don't have to be such an asshole."

Dan's full blown _angry_ now, and Phil hurries to think of something to do as Dan turns to walk off - but somebody else has already come up with _the perfect idea._

"Oh, mate, it's not what you think. The freak's not intentionally ignoring you, he's just a mute."

The words are spoken with malice and tease, but also simplistically - a fact that is just accepted; Phil's a freak.

Dan's eyes are wide, shocked, but Phil's not paying attention to that. He can feel the tears splashing down his warm, reddened cheeks. He runs out of the room without a second glance, heart pounding and stomach twisting.

It doesn't hurt because he thought he could make a friend, it hurts because he had believed the days of being called a 'freak' were long past him.

* * *

"Phil?" Chris calls out. He's seated at their usual table, but his sharp eyes noticed Phil's sullen figure before Phil could slip past.

Phil takes his time, mentally preparing himself for the sympathy bound to show on his best friends' faces, sympathy he's not even sure he deserves.

"Mate, are you...did something happen?"

Phil shakes his head as he sits down.

"Phil..." PJ says, and he knows, Phil can tell he knows - and he's 100% positive that PJ's got some crazy psychic powers.

"Did someone say something?" Chris asks, and Phil pauses, before nodding reluctantly. He knocks twice on the table, but it's soft, barely audible.

"Did they tease you?" PJ asks, and Phil nods, before shrugging.

"Care to expand?" Chris asks, but before Phil gets a chance, someone walks over, hesitating by their table.

"Uh, hi..."

Phil's freezes. He _knows_ that voice. He knows _who_ that voice belongs to.

"Hi..." Chris begins. He saw Phil tense, so he's cautious, and wary - visibly so, too.

"Sorry, it's just...there was this, misunderstanding, and...uh, I'm Dan, by the way."

"Chris," Chris greets slowly.

"PJ. And this is -"

"Phil." Dan cuts in, blushing slightly as he realises what he'd said.

"Sorry, we've, uh, we've met."

Chris raises his eyebrows at Phil, asking a silent question, but Phil doesn't move.

"I don't mean to interrupt, it's just...I was kind of hoping to talk to Phil."

"You know he can't..." PJ begins, wary of offending or upsetting Phil, his hands moving like Phil's usually do.

"Yeah...that's partly why I wanted to, uh, talk."

"It's okay, I can interpret. Speak away." Chris announces.

"Okay, uh..."

Dan's nervous...but Phil's not sure _why_. It's rather strange, to see someone else acting like that, timorously, the way Phil so oftenly acts.

"I'm sorry about the...misunderstanding before. I thought you were being rude and obnoxious, and it annoyed me - when really, I was the one being rude."

Phil shrugs one shoulder, eyes widened, and Chris understands, although Dan obviously doesn't.

"It's okay. He knows you didn't mean it. He understands."

Dan looks amazed that one look can convey so much, that Chris can understand so easily what Phil means, and Chris chokes out a low laugh. Phil knows it's just because Chris gets it, he just _knows_.

"Phil, I'm...I'm sorry."

Phil smiles, and scoots across, opening a spot next to him. After all, Dan is new, and now that everything has been cleared up, he can't see why he shouldn't have the chance at a new friendship.

"Care to join us?" PJ asks, and Chris properly laughs as Dan sits down. Phil absentmindedly thinks Dan looks rather adorable, puzzled as to how glassy-eyed PJ knew what Phil did.

"You have much to learn." Chris says.

Phil pulls out a scrap of paper and a pencil, and scribbles down a single word, which he passes to Dan.

 _'Friends?'_

Dan reads the note, and nods, grinning.

"Friends." He agrees.

Phil quite likes the sound of that.

* * *

In hindsight, Dan probably should have seen the psychiatrist when his mother first recommended it. Sure, he was a little _angry_ at her at the time, a fact that partially impaired his judgement. Still…it might have helped. Because now, his problems are too deeply ingrained for him to get rid of them, they're a part of him, despite what Charlotte tries to argue.

Rightfully, Dan should distance himself from people, to keep them from getting hurt – unintentionally or not. But he has this horrific urge to attach himself to people. He hates being lonely, he can't stand it.

And so, instead of keeping to himself like most _normal_ people would – he blatantly asks to be friends with one of his new classmates.

Horrible decision, really.

He doesn't know why he didn't just stay away.

It's a wonder, how Phil even payed him any attention, after the way Dan had acted. He didn't even think about what he was doing, or saying. Phil doesn't understand how volatile he is, none of them do, he's not safe, he's dangerous, he's messed up, he's…

 _"That's not true, it's impossible…it doesn't even – no one's like that…you can't, you're not!"_

 _"Come on, Dan, don't be such a freak, everyone wants it, even you."_

He's not the kind of person someone should be friends with.

"How was school?" Dan's sister, Charlotte, asks the second he walks in the door.

"We can't have this chat over dinner, where I can pretend I'm too busy eating, and you can drop the subject with a mumble of how difficult I am?" Dan replies, his voice bouncing off the hallway walls as he makes his way to his bedroom, where he discards his bag.

"Nice try, squirt. But I think that's how things are really going to play out."

She's leaning against the kitchen bench, arms crossed, when Dan walks back in; and he can tell by the intenseness of her gaze, that he's not going to escape her interrogation.

"It was fine." He answers, nonchalantly, shrugging one shoulder.

 _"Fine?"_ Charlotte echoes.

"Yeah, fine. Made a few mistakes, and I made a few friends. It was fine, all things considered.

"Dan…" Charlotte says, and it comes out almost like a warning.

"I almost had a temper blow-out but I fixed it.

"You _fixed_ it?"

"I didn't yell, I didn't break anything, I apologised for it and still walked away with friends. Sounds pretty fixed to me."

Charlotte steps forward and hugs Dan, and it takes all his strength not to collapse.

"I know things aren't easy for you, and now that you've had to move houses, and schools…on top of everything else you have to deal with _daily_ …I know I can be a little overprotective and I probably annoy you, but I can't help it. I only have your best interests at heart."

"I know." Dan says into her soft curls. He's taller than her, but only by a little bit.

"And I appreciate everything you've done – getting me away from Mum and Dad, taking me in, everything. But you need to remember, Char, I'm nearly seventeen – I need to cope with things on my own, or at least learn how to."

Charlotte nods, pulling back so she's holding Dan at arm's length, her hands on his shoulders.

"You're right. So…let's talk about happier things. You said you made friends?"

Dan grins, and ignores the stray tears that slip down his cheeks.

"Their names are Phil, PJ and Chris, and…"

* * *

The next day, Dan accidentally sleeps in, which might have been okay if Charlotte hadn't started work early that morning. He makes it to school just as the bell rings, and is, fortunately, only a minute late to his first class. However, he's a little frazzled when he walks in, his anxiety threatening to rise to problematic levels and his temper boiling just below the surface.

Psychology's first up, and Phil catches his attention with an enthusiastic wave. Dan sits next to him, clenching his fists under the desk to stop the slight tremors. He thinks it's working, or perhaps he's just hoping really hard. He focuses on the teacher's instructions, and as such doesn't notice what Phil's doing, until the scrap of paper is slid in front of him.

 _'Are you okay?'_ It reads, and Dan's already got three excuses on the tip of his tongue, but for some peculiar reason none of them come out.

"Yeah, it's just – I slept in this morning so I was late, and I…I really don't like being late."

Phil's just looking at him, but Dan gets the feeling there's something more than meets the eye going on. He scribbles something else, this time below the first line.

 _'I think I might have something that will cheer you up.'_ It reads. _'But, you'll have to wait until recess.'_

"What is it?" Dan asks, but Phil only grins and taps the side of his nose – a signal even Dan understands.

"I get the daunting feeling you're actually a criminal mastermind." He jokes, and the smile Phil flashes is bright enough to rival the sun.

There's a substantial part of Dan, that knows the problems he thinks are there, aren't really that big.

However, there's also a fair part of him that's screaming, that he's going to screw everything up, again, and that part is unfortunately impossible to ignore.

* * *

They don't 'talk' too much more in class, but Phil _does_ draw a bunch of sketches – stars and lions and hearts and music notes, and Dan thinks there might be a llama there somewhere; but he only told Phil once, in passing, that they're his favourite animal…so he's not quite sure.

Every now and then, Dan turns to ask Phil something, or to sneak a glance at the answers Phil's written for the textbook questions, and he's almost blinded by Phil's smile – it's bright and wide but not in a way that is overbearing or obnoxious…it's one of the best things Dan's ever seen.

And it shouldn't be, he shouldn't be letting himself think such things – it never ends well, not for him, he should have learnt by now.

It'll only end in heartbreak, and he knows it.

* * *

Dan walks with Phil to their lockers, which are only a few feet apart, when the bell goes. Dan asks Phil where Chris and PJ are, and Phil shrugs – but he doesn't look fazed or worried, so Dan takes it as they're on their way, or something alike.

Dan takes his snack – a packet of plain crisps and a banana – from his locker. Phil's holding a brown paper bag when he walks over, and when Dan asks about the contents, Phil just puts his index finger in front of his lips, then taps the side of his nose.

 _Shush, it's a secret._

Dan pouts, then declares "you're a jerk."

Phil doesn't seem too hurt by the statement.

He leads Dan to the cafeteria, hand on his wrist, gently tugging him along. Dan tries to focus on where they're going and not on how Phil's touch almost burns…he's new and he needs to work out where things are as soon as possible.

"I've had a startling revelation." Dan says as they find a deserted table.

Phil's eyebrows are raised, so Dan continues.

"I'd be quite literally lost, if I hadn't met you. I know where _nothing_ is at this school."

Phil grins, and holds up two fingers.

"Two things?" Dan asks, amused at how their conversation is quickly turning into a game of charades.

Phil shakes his head, and tilts his head slightly to the right.

"Two days?"

Phil nods enthusiastically, azure eyes sparkling.

"I've only been here for two days? Well, yeah, kind of…but I mean – if I didn't have you to show me where to go, I could still be lost three weeks from now."

Phil shakes his head, in a manner almost fond, and Dan resists the urge to tell him to kindly shut up.

"You guys can stop feeling lame now, us cool kids are finally here."

They both looks up as Chris and PJ walk over, arm in arm. Phil shakes his head and signs something – all fast, blurry movements and twisted hands – and although Dan understand none of it, he can't imagine it's anything nice, judging by Chris' indignant scoff.

"He just called me a blundering fool, basically." Chris clarifies, for both Dan and PJ's sakes.

"And he informed me, that I am, apparently, not in fact 'cool'. Which I quite completely disagree with."

"You're not cool." PJ says, manoeuvring slowly to sit at the table. "You're an absolute dork. A dork I love…but a dork all the same."

Chris pouts and sighs, and PJ kisses his cheek, one hand on his shoulder.

"This is the point where Phil would make gagging gestures and carefully detail just how sickening he finds us, in case we weren't already aware." Chris informs Dan.

Phil quickly puts his hands on his lap, hidden under the table, a rosy blush creeping up his neck. Dan personally finds it rather adorable, not that he mentions it.

"Don't mind him Phil," PJ reassures him. "He's just annoyed because the teacher found out he'd neglected to do his homework."

"How was your class?" He continues, before Chris can open his mouth again.

"Good." Dan says, and Phil gives a thumbs up.

"We were just answering questions. Nothing too exciting."

And then, something dawns on Dan, and he might as well have a cartoon light bulb over his head.

"But.. you sir, promised me a surprise." Dan reminds Phil, turning his attention completely to his balck-haired companion.

Phil nods, and holds up the brown paper bag that had been resting between his legs.

"Are they Nana Lester's infamous, mouth-watering delicious triple choc-chip brownies?" Chris inquires, looking for the most part as if Christmas had come early.

"You could be a product salesman." Dan declares. "That was a fantastic pitch."

Chris shakes his head hurriedly.

"No, mate. You _literally_ have no idea how delicious they are. People have almost _died_ trying to get these brownies."

Dan looks a little dubious, still not quite believing.

"I'd say that's a little bit of an exaggeration – and under most circumstances, Chris usually is weaving a few dramatic lines into his speech – but this time I actually have to agree with him. These are quite literally the best treats you will ever eat in your whole life." PJ says, and he sounds serious enough to properly convince Dan to at the very least _try_ them.

"Okay, if you all insist. But, I mean, really…how good _can_ they _actually_ be?"

Phil hands them out – clean-cut squares of chocolate treat small enough to fit in Dan's palm – and Dan takes the first crucial bite…he has to rethink the past five minutes or so of his life, and every word he'd spoken during them.

His mouth is _exploding_ with flavour, it's sweet and crunchy and chewy but not hard – like an actual slice of heaven melting on his tongue. And yes…it _melted_.

"Oh… _Jesus Christ,_ " He breathes, the taste soaking into his tastebuds.

"What did we say?" Chris asks, grinning smugly.

"Like the kiss of an angel, some might say." PJ adds.

Phil's smirking, but it looks more gentle than arrogant, like he's genuinely pleased they all enjoy the sweets so much. He, himself, is chewing on a piece, watching the conversation with vibrant eyes.

"I honestly, think I could die happy right now." Dan announces.

Chris and PJ laugh, and Phil's grin widens, and Dan thinks that he might just be fitting in nicely. He might just well have found somewhere he belongs, with a group of people he could honestly call friends.

It feels nice, if a little terrifying.


	2. I Care What You Think

**Chapter title from 'Stressed Out' by Twenty One Pilots**

"You want to teach me sign language?"

They're at school, waiting for PJ and Chris to arrive, and Phil's suddenly thrusted a scrap of paper into Dan's hands.

Phil nods, and he looks so excited about the idea that Dan doesn't really want to say no. However, there's also a small part of him screaming that if he tries this he'll just fail or he'll offend Phil, neither of which are options he's too happy with.

"I don't know..."

Phil's eyes are wide and almost pleading, and he looks so earnest that Dan isn't sure he can keep this act up. He hands Dan another piece, and Dan wonders just how many pre-written messages he has. Phil's incredibly intent on convincing him, for some reason unknown to Dan.

" _You taught Chris_... Look, Phil, it's not that I don't trust you or anything, it's just that I'm not sure _I'll_ be able to do it."

Phil tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth, like he's deep in thought, and Dan's a little nervous to see what he comes up with next.

Just then, PJ and Chris walk up, Chris' hand wrapped around his boyfriend's arm, and they look like such a perfect couple, that Dan's heart pangs a little at the sight.

"Hey. What are you two up to?" Chris asks when they're close enough to be heard.

"Phil's trying to convince me to learn sign language." Dan explains.

"Is he going to teach you?" PJ asks.

"That's what he says."

"Well, I for one think you should let him." Chris says.

"It's not exactly going to hurt, and I promise, he's a good teacher, very patient."

Phil smiles at the compliment.

"You really think I should?" Dan asks, and he hates that he's so worried about this, but it's obviously a big part of Phil's life and he doesn't want to do anything wrong.

"Absolutely. You won't regret it, I promise." Chris tells him, and he sounds deadly serious, so Dan can't help but believe him.

"Okay..." He says, a little hesitantly, and he sounds like he's giving in, but really there's a fair part of him that is interested in learning, so that he can communicate with Phil, but also because it will be like learning another language, and it's all fascinating to him.

"Awesome!" Chris says, and Dan has barely a second to register that he's going in for a high-five and not trying to bash him up.

PJ's grinning, and when Dan sneaks a glance side-ways he can see that Phil is too. He thinks that this is the right decision, especially if it provides such a delighted response.

* * *

When Dan gets home, the flat is empty - which isn't surprising, Charlotte's still at work after all. But for some reason, the quiet and the loneliness is almost stifling. He knows it's probably just because he's not used to being in this apartment, far from his parents and his childhood home. He's far too used to coming home to the smell of freshly baked goods or the sound of his father mowing the lawns, or even the sound of the neighbour's annoying dogs barking .

It's only been a month since he moved in with Charlotte, only a month since his world had come crashing down around him, and the memories, the hurt, are still burning in his mind. Charlotte's move had been her choice - she had always been extremely independent, and as soon as she was old enough and had enough financial resources to leave, she was out.

But Dan, he hadn't had much of a choice in the matter. Once his parents had found out the truth about him ... they'd basically kicked him out. It was an ultimatum - pretend he wasn't actually who he was, or get out, because they couldn't stand having a son like him.

So he'd called Charlotte up with tears falling from his eyes and shaky sobs escaping his mouth, and told her everything, to the minuscule detail. She'd remained calm, though he could hear the undertones of fury in her words, and instructed him on just how they would fix the situation.

The next day, Dan feigned sickness, and skipped school, and whilst their parents were at work, he and Charlotte had packed up all of his belongings, and he was gone. He left everything he'd ever known, and he'd never looked back. He'd moved in with Charlotte, who understood him, accepted him like their parents hadn't, and life, although far from perfect, was undeniably better.

Sure, he still had his issues - the voices of his past echoed behind him every second of every minute, and his anger-control was hit and miss at best.

But he also had his wonderful sister, and his new friends, and he was at a new school where people didn't know about his past, about who he was. Where he could make himself anew, become someone better, the person he truly was and the person he _wanted_ to be, all rolled into one.

The feeling that he was all alone, though ... he had a sneaking suspicion that would never go away.

* * *

"I think it's a good idea."

Dan and Charlotte are sitting at their dining table, eating roast vegetables and chicken and gravy for dinner. Charlotte had asked about his day, and Dan had told her about Phil's proposition, although he hadn't quite expected the reaction he'd gotten.

Dan stares at her, expecting to see some indication of a bluff, but he can't find anything.

"You're not kidding, are you?" He asks.

"Why would I be?" Charlotte asks in return, and Dan shrugs.

"Because it's kind of a big deal, probably difficult, and we both know what problems can arise when I get frustrated."

Charlotte bites her bottom lip, and Dan thinks she might be searching for the correct words.

"I truly do think it's a good idea. It's really nice of Phil to offer, and it would probably help you talk to him - which I'm pretty sure is what _you_ want."

There's a teasing to her words, and Dan wonders if she knows - and how she could _possibly_ know, when even _Dan_ isn't quite sure what it all is, what it all means. How it could be true in the slightest when he'd barely known Phil for a week.

"You're a lot better at controlling your anger than you think you are, Dan. I trust that, if you find yourself getting too frustrated and agitated, you'll stop and get it all under control before it gets out of hand. You know your triggers, Dan, you know what's too much and I have faith that you can handle yourself."

Charlotte shrugs, but Dan's too busy mulling over her words to really notice.

"It's up to you, though. In the end, you're the one that's going to be learning, not me. You're the one who this all affects."

Dan breathes in deep, and he knows that Charlotte's right. She always is.

"I'll think about it." He says, because it's as close to a yes as he can give at the moment.

He's still terrified, because even though Charlotte has trust and faith in him, he doesn't.

* * *

It's interesting, Dan muses, how plain and boring his bedroom looks for that of a teenage boy.

There's no posters or picture frames or even post-it notes with mismatched thoughts. The walls are a pale blue, the curtains on his window are a light-grey, and the only furniture in the room is his bed with it's black-white-and-grey covers, his desk with a whole lot of nothing, and his bookshelf which is filled with the few books he'd taken from his old house.

It's not that he can't decorate his room so that it reflects his personality, Charlotte basically gave him free reign when he moved in - his room is _his room_ \- but he simply hasn't been able to conjure up the inspiration to do so. His old bedroom had been filled with band posters and nerdy figurines, and to replicate it _here_ feels strange, like he's just reverting to his old-self, slipping back into his past.

Although, when he can't sleep at night for fear of plaguing nightmares, and he's looking up at the empty ceiling above his head, he wonders if he could put something there. Glow-in-the-dark stickers that all his primary school friends used to have, perhaps, ones that end up fading over time, so they start to look a little green.

Something to shine at night when the shadows threaten to suffocate him.

* * *

"Are we being bad friends?"

Chris runs his fingers along the span of PJ's side, the touch feather-light and delicate. He knows that he is probably being silly, but there is always a part of him that over-reacts to things and he had learnt a while ago, that telling his boyfriend is much smarter than mulling over it himself.

They're lying on PJ's bed, because neither had any better plans, and PJ's parents trust them enough to be alone with no supervision. There's music playing in the background, coming from PJ's laptop where it sits open on the desk, but neither of them are concentrating much on it.

"What do you mean?" PJ asks, carding his fingers gently through Chris' hair. Although he doesn't say so, Chris is extremely grateful that PJ doesn't tell him he's being silly, but instead asks why he's having such thoughts.

"It's just ... it's not that I don't trust Phil to make smart decisions, but - Dan is new, and different and it's just been the three of us for so long ... I can't help but feel like we've done the wrong thing in just accepting him into the group straight away. We don't even know that much about him."

Chris sighs aloud. He sounds like such an ass, and he's not trying to be, he's just worried about Phil. He can't help but want to wrap him up and protect him from all the evil in the world, because Phil deserves nothing but kindness and he's already faced so much negativity.

"I don't want to sound presumptuous," PJ replies. "But I don't think Dan will do anything bad, not unprovoked. He doesn't come across as that kind of person. And if he would, he'd apologise, just like he did to Phil."

Chris feels PJ moving, and then there's a soft brush of lips against his temple and he sighs again.

"But I can see where you're coming from." PJ adds, his voice low and warm. "I don't think we're being bad friends, as such, but you do have a point. Perhaps, instead of worrying about it, we should just talk to Dan more, get to know him better."

Chris hums as PJ talks, the sound rising as his boyfriend scrapes his short nails across Chris' scalp. The touch sends waves of pleasure down his spine, and along with PJ's wise words, makes him feel a little better too. He knows he made the right choice in talking about it.

"You're right." Chris says, then scoffs out a laugh, adding quietly. "But then again, I shouldn't have expected anything less."

PJ laughs too, and the sound is like the best possible music in the world to Chris' ears.

"You need to worry less." PJ says, and Chris thinks that he probably looks sympathetic, but he can't be bothered lifting his head up off PJ's chest to find out, so he's not sure.

Instead, he places his hand flat on PJ's ribs, where the warmth from his skin seeps into Chris' fingers, and presses his head as close to PJ's chest as he can. PJ kisses his head again, and although they've both lapsed into silence, it's comfortable and pleasant, and it serves to ease Chris' worries a little bit.

Not a lot. But a bit.


	3. Coping Is Difficult But I'm Trying

"Okay. You can teach me,"

Phil's whole face lights up at Dan's words, but Dan holds a hand up, indicating that he isn't finished.

"But, you have to be patient with me, I'm not always a fast learner - and I can get ... frustrated, at times. And, we need Chris to be around so there's no miscommunication between us." He adds, and Phil nods furiously.

Dan has barely a second to notice as Phil basically tackles him into a firm hug, and when Phil's long arms reach around him, Dan's breath hitches and sticks in his throat. He tenses up a little, not because he's uncomfortable but because he wasn't expecting Phil to hug him. Phil is warm, and the hug is kind of nice when Dan starts to think past _"okay, okay, Phil's hugging me, okay",_ but he's a little bewildered to find himself disappointed when Phil pulls away.

He looks sheepish, his right hand reaching up to rub his upper arm, just above his elbow, and he's looking at the ground instead of at Dan. Dan's not sure what to do, or what to say, and Phil's not looking at him so he can't just offer Phil a comforting smile to reassure him that everything is okay.

Thankfully, the bell rings, and Phil looks up at the sound. He gestures to his locker, only a metre or so away from where they're standing. Dan nods, and Phil smiles before walking off. Dan spins his lock, clicking on the numbers he needs, all the while trying not to think too much about what had just happened, and more importantly, how nice it had felt.

He can't afford to crush on Phil.

Dan has English up first, a class he has with Chris but without Phil, so he says goodbye to Phil - receiving a smile and a wave in response - and makes his way to his classroom. He spends the walk trying to remember where his classroom is, and hoping that he won't get lost along the way because he has no idea what he'll do then.

He makes it barely a second before the bell for class rings, and he's quite proud of himself, having only made one wrong turn instead of five this time.

Chris grins at him when he walks in, and Dan smiles shyly as he takes the seat next to him. Neither of them speak, because their English teacher, Mr. Prav, is a scary man with beady eyes who doesn't give out warnings before detentions like most teachers would.

They work diligently for half of the lesson, grateful when Mr. Prav has to go to his office, leaving the class alone with a girl who could care less what they did as long as the room didn't burn down.

"So, have you made a decision about Phil's proposition yet?" Chris asks, and Dan sighs at his straightforwardness. It seems there is indeed a lot that Dan has yet to learn about his new friends.

"I have." He answers. "But I'm curious as to why you want to know so badly."

"Because Phil is my best friend." Chris says honestly, adding quickly. "So is PJ, obviously, but Phil's different. I knew him first, met him when we were both at pretty dark places in our lives and we helped each other through them. If you're going to be in our friend group, if you're serious about being _his_ friend, I think it's important that you learn how to communicate with him like we did."

"I am serious." Dan says, soaking Chris' words in. He's a little curious about the 'dark places' part, but he knows better than to push - he's been through dark times too, he knows as well as anyone how it feels to be stuck in a storm cloud, and it's much fairer to find out when the person or people are ready.

"Wait a second." He soon adds, because another part of what Chris said has suddenly clicked.

"You said, 'like _we_ did'."

Chris nods, and he's looking at Dan like he's taken the alter-ego of 'Captain Obvious'.

"Yeah. PJ and I."

"How does ... I mean I'm not trying to be rude, or anything, but-"

"How can PJ do it? Because he's blind?" Chris asks, and Dan would be worried but Chris looks amused instead of angry so Dan breathes out a low sigh of relief that he hopes goes unnoticed.

"I taught him. With Phil's help of course, but-"

Just then, Mr. Prav walks back in, so Dan and Chris duck their heads and pretend to be working. They wait until their teacher's dark eagle eyes have returned to the papers on his desk before turning to face each other.

"Phil taught me," Chris whispers, and Dan strains a little to hear him.

"And then I helped PJ learn. It took him a bit longer and he usually sticks to the basic ones like saying hello or thank you and the such, phrases that don't require an answer."

Chris smiles wistfully, and Dan feels slightly envious, though he doesn't mention it.

"I know it may seem pointless," He whispers, "Especially because he can talk, which he does most of the time, but it means that PJ doesn't feel left out or like a bad friend because he can't talk to Phil the way Phil talks to him and me - and now, of course, you."

"So, do you translate for the two of them?" Dan asks quietly, curious as to how the dynamic between them works.

"Most of the time. I'm sort of the go-between."

Chris grins, and at first Dan feels a little scared - Chris looks like an mad scientist, like Victor Frakenstein.

"Of course, once _you've_ learnt you can be the messenger pigeon as well."

Dan smiles, the idea curiously enticing.

"That sounds like fun." He says, and Chris grins.

"Most of the time, it is."

"So, I was thinking we should start this SL session this weekend?" Chris suggests when they're at lunch.

PJ raises his eyebrows, and Chris whispers something into his ear that seems to be an explanation.

"SL?" Dan asks, and he feels pretty dumb when he realises a second later what it means.

"Oh, right. Sign language, I get it."

PJ smiles and Chris scoffs out a laugh, and Dan feels like groaning when he sees Phil laughing soundlessly out of the corner of his eye.

 _Good job, Dan. Nice one._

"Sounds good to me." PJ says, and Phil nods in agreement. Dan ponders the idea - he can't find any fault in it, but things are all happening in quicker succesion then he'd been ready for.

"Can't wait." Dan says, and he makes a mental note to ask Charlotte, although he's not quite sure how he's going to get around asking her without letting slip of the real reason behind his request.

Phil makes eye contact with Chris, before pointing to himself and then steeping his fingers so they made a bottomless triangle.

"Everyone okay with Phil's house?" Chris translates, and Dan furrows his eyebrows.

"We also use shortcuts - a sign language all of our own." Chris explains, and Dan purses his lips.

"I see. This is indeed going to be interesting." He says, and he wonders if the others can hear the double-edged meaning in his words, or if it's really just him.

Charlotte's lounging on the creamy-brown couch in the sitting room when Dan gets home. At first he doesn't see her, and he would have walked past if she hadn't of spotted him first.

"Hey, squirt, how was school?" She asks, and her voice is soft and a little strained.

Dan drops his bag behind the couch before flopping onto it. Charlotte, anticipating the move, folds her legs as he sits down, before stretching them back out, her feet pushing against the arm of the couch, her shins resting on Dan's thighs.

"You know that calling me squirt is redundant seeing as I'm not half your height anymore." Dan says, looking down at her.

There's the faint remnance of dark bags under her eyes, and her golden hair is messy and knotted. She's wearing her glasses, thin-rimmed and purple, and Dan can tell that she's had an interesting and possibly rough day.

"I don't care. You're still younger and that is enough for me." She replies, and Dan squeezes her knee, humour dropping away.

"How was work?" He asks. He doesn't inquire as to why she's at home when she's supposed to be at the bakery down the road, he figures she'll tell him at some point.

"Tiring, as always - I blame the annoyingly impatient clientèle. I mean today wasn't too bad, so I'm pretty lucky, but-" Charlotte sighs wearily.

"I shouldn't be complaining." She mumbles, running a hand through her untidy tangles.

She turns to him with a bright smile, and even though he can see the tightness to her mouth and the lines near her eyes, he doesn't say anything, because he knows that she would just dismiss his worries anyway.

"How was your day?" She continues, reaching a hand out to grip his own with a reassuring squeeze.

"Pretty good. I, uh, I told Phil about my decision."

"You made a choice?" Charlotte asks, and Dan nods, a mix of excitement and shyness.

"Yeah, I said that he could teach me, but I made sure that Chris could be there too, to translate."

 _And so that I'm not all alone with Phil._ He thinks, but he doesn't mention it, because he isn't quite sure that he wants to admit it out loud.

Charlotte nods, her movements slow but fluid.

"Makes sense to me. I'm proud of you Dan, this is a good step."

"Yeah," Dan breathes out shakily, and he smiles as Charlotte squeezes his hand again. Some days, _most_ days, he isn't sure what he would do without his big sister.

"Chris suggested we start this weekend." Dan continues, speaking slowly. "And Phil offered for us to meet at his house."

Charlotte's eyeing him curiously, and he can tell that she's trying to read him - she's probably succeeding - but he doesn't dwell on that, because if he stops talking now he knows he won't bring it up again.

"I thought I should probably ask you first, though, before I confirmed definitively." He adds, letting out a sigh when he finishes.

He doesn't know why it felt like such a big deal to ask Charlotte - he doesn't expect her to say no. She'd been encouraging him to try to make new friends ever since she'd found out what had happened with those who had claimed to be comrades but had done nothing to prove it, and she had been nothing but excited since he'd told her about his three new friends. Regardless, there was a tiny knot of anxiety in his gut, and it wasn't easing up.

"I don't mind." Charlotte says, her head tilted a bit to the side like a curious bird.

"Do you know his address?"

"No, I'll have to ask him tomorrow."

Charlotte nods, and covers her mouth as a yawn threatens to escape.

"I can drive you there, if you want." She says, mid-yawn.

"I could always walk." Dan insists, not wanting to burden her in any way, not after what she had done for him already.

Charlotte simply stares at him, and there's an air of guardianship in her look.

"Not if it's any further than from here to the school, you're not." She says, and she smiles at him kindly before adding. "Besides, I want to meet your new friends."

Dan groans and buries his face in his hands, and he can hear Charlotte laughing softly at his embarrassment.

"You know I love you, Danny boy." She says, and Dan resists the urge to slide of the couch and bury his face into the ground.

"I love you too." He mumbles, because despite her annoying teasing, he knows that there will never be a day where he doesn't love Charlotte, because he knows that she'll never do anything to cause him to hate her.

She'd already accepted him as who he was, helped him escape to a better place and was more than willing to do anything to help him. He couldn't possibly wish for a better sister than the one he had, nor would he.

Dan is barely at Phil's door, had just hurriedly waved goodbye to Charlotte and knocked on the wooden entrance, before it was flung open revealing Chris on the other side.

"Hey, dude." Chris greets, with a small smile. There's something in his eyes that Dan can't quite define, but he's curious about it.

"The other guys are in the den. Follow me."

Dan walks after Chris, making sure he's no more than a few steps behind because getting lost in Phil's house - which is nice and traditional and clean and _two whole storeys_ \- doesn't sound too appealing to him.

"We're going to start this thing the easy way." Chris explains as he leads. "The alphabet, how to say hello, thank you, how to introduce yourself."

Dan knows that what Chris is describing probably isn't as hard as it sounds, but to someone like Dan who has no clue what he's gotten himself into, it sounds a little difficult and he's kind of nervous about it.

"Sounds like fun." He says anyway, because he doesn't want to admit that he's terrified about messing this up and offending any of them, mainly Phil, but still -

"Hey guys, Dan's here."

Dan follows Chris into the den, which resembles his old family room - there's a TV on one wall, and a set of comfy looking armchairs with a matching couch. The walls are decorated with beautiful paintings and pictures of what looked like Phil and his family. Phil and PJ are sitting on the ground in front of the wooden coffee table, which confuses Dan at first but he dismisses it. They obviously have a reason.

"Hi." PJ greets, smiling warmly. Phil waves, and his face is lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Uh, hey." Dan replies, waving awkwardly.

Chris sits down on the ground next to the other two, and Dan quickly follows suit. His confusion must be evident on his face, because Chris grins at him.

"Couches are awkward. Besides, being in close proximity makes it easier for us to help you." He explains. "With things like the way your fingers are shaped, etc."

Dan nods. Phil offers a thumbs up and a smile in his direction, and Dan smiles in response. Phil looks at Chris for confirmation, and Chris rubs his hands together like an evil genius with a master plan.

"Okay, let's go."

Phil waves his hand in a wide arch, like he's miming a rainbow.

"So that's hello. It's also the same for goodbye - kudos to context." Chris translates, and Dan copies Phil. It's a simple move, and the meaning makes perfect sense.

"Of course you can just wave normally for either." PJ adds.

"Well, yeah, obviously. Thanks for the comment, peanut gallery." Chris says sarcastically, and PJ's grin widens.

"Anway, moving on."

Phil nods, and touches his fingertips to his chin, just below his bottom lip, and then he extends them outwards, like he's blowing Dan a kiss.

"And that means, thank you."

Dan copies, and he doesn't realise he's facing Phil when he does it, until he sees the dusting of a blush on Phil's cheeks. Dan can feel his own face warming up, and he bites the inside of his mouth whilst trying to force it down.

"If you want to mention yourself or something that is yours, you just need to point to yourself." Chris adds.

"That makes sense."

"A lot of sign language does." Chris says.

Phil nudges Chris' knee with his toes, and Chris looks over at him.

Phil taps his palm twice, and Chris sighs.

"Someone's impatient." He tells Phil, who only smirks in response.

"He wants to start explaining the alphabet to you." Chris says to Dan, so he's not sitting there, awkwardly confused.

"Sounds fun." Dan replies, and it does. He's genuinely interested in learning, and starting with the vowels and consonants seems like the best option.

Phil's smile grows impossibly wider, and if Dan thought there was something else happening with Chris, he can't find it anymore.

There's an overwhelming feeling of niceness in Dan, and fondness for these people he can call friends without choking on the words.

He likes it, new although it is.


	4. It's Tearing At My Soul

"Your hand is like a whiteboard."

Dan looks at Chris like he just said the moon was hot pink or the ground was lava. PJ smiles, and Dan wonders how he can appear to know everything without being able to see it. He must be incredibly transparent if PJ can tell that he's confused.

"A whiteboard?" Dan repeats, and Phil nods.

"Yes. Each of your fingers stands for a vowel - you touch your thumb for _'a'_ , index finger for _'e'_ , middle finger for _'i'_ , and so on. Five fingers, five vowels." Chris explains. He gestures to Phil, who indicates on his hand what Chris means. He points slowly, so that it is easier for

"You use your dominant hand, too. So, for example, I'm right handed, so my left hand is the whiteboard."

"So, my right hand would be the 'whiteboard'?" Dan asks, hoping he understood correctly.

"Exactly." Chris grins. "See, easy peasy."

Dan doesn't completely agree with him, but he is proud of how quickly he seems to be catching on. And, if Phil's enthusiastic grin is anything to go by, Dan isn't the only one.

"Now, you try." Chris instructs.

Dan nods. He taps each of his fingers in turn, saying the letters for each of them. Phil's grin is blinding, and Chris looks like he's going to jump up in the air or something.

"Look, you're a pro already." Chris says, encouragingly.

"We should probably stop it there," PJ commented, his hand automatically reaching out to rest on Chris' leg.

"We don't want to overload you with information, you're literally learning a new language."

Dan nods. "That sounds reasonable."

"You've caught on really well, though." Chris assures him. Phil nods enthusiastically and gives two thumbs up, prompting a crinkly smile from Dan.

"Only because of your help." Dan says. "Thank you."

Phil smiles, and Chris shrugs. "Not a problem."

There's a sense of acomplisment in Dan, that for once he hadn't actually messed anything up. He had done something right, all his fears were for nothing. And best of all, his new friends are proud of him.

 _Phil is proud of him._

* * *

The next day, Dan is in English with Chris, trying to listen to Mr Prav as he drawls on about Shakespeare. The problem for him, is that he's already read Macbeth, he knows it all, so hearing it all again is just repetitive and monotonous and he honestly just cannot be bothered.

He's not the only one who can't seem to pay attention, though. Chris is rubbing his hands together on top of the table, knuckles against palms, fingers locking together. His leg is shaking, and Dan can see him worrying the skin of his bottom lip.

"Hey, Chris, are you ... are you okay?" Dan asks quietly, hesitant of not only their teacher but also of how Chris might react. He's not sure where they stand just yet, and he doesn't want to cross a line so early in the friendship.

"What?" Chris looks up, almost as though he is surprised to find Dan asking such a question.

"Are you okay?" Dan repeats, now more than just a little concerned.

"I'm fine." Chris says, before looking down at his hands, where thumb is digging into his palm.

"Oh, right, that." He says slowly, choking out an awkward laugh.

Dan waits patiently, as Chris attempts to struggle with an explanation.

"I have, uh, a behavioural disorder ... ADHD, actually, and it's not always that bad, usually it isn't. English is just ... English isn't an easy subject for me and I can get a little, uh, restless."

Dan nods slowly. "Okay."

"Okay?" Chris echoes, and Dan wonders what kind of reaction he was expecting.

"Yeah. I mean, hey, I have anger issues, it would be stupid for me to criticise you for something you can't control."

Chris smiles gratefully, and although it's small, it means a lot to Dan.

"Do you want me to explain the notes I've made?" He asks, sliding his notebook over.

"I've already studied Macbeth before, I might be able to help you make sense of it."

"You'd do that?" Chris asks, eyes wide.

"Of course." Dan replies. "Why wouldn't I? It's not fair for you to struggle because you can't understand the same way other people do."

Chris looks incredibly relieved, and a little surprised. Dan smiles gently, hoping to coney that his offer is genuine.

"Thank you," Chris says, before adding. "I know it sounds like I never get help, but that's not it. The teachers, they try hard but they don't always have the time to spare, so I usually just hide in the background. PJ helps, but he's not in my class and I feel bad asking. As for Phil ... there's only so much he can explain before I get frustrated. Usually I just pass by the scrape of my teeth."

Dan notices that Chris doesn't mention anything to do with help from his parents, so Dan doesn't mention it either, just in case it is a sore or sensitive subject for him.

"Well, now you have me in your class, and I'm never going to say 'no' if you ask me for help. In fact, I'll probably feel really good about it, because then I'm actually being helpful and useful."

Chris grins, and it's a more pleasantly happy sight than the one he'd previously had.

"Thank you." He says again, and Dan shrugs.

"You help me with the sign language, I help you with this. Seems like a pretty fair deal to me."

Chris nods, and although he's still a little fidgety, Dan ignores it, in favour of explaining to Chris the plot of the tale. He feels good, being able to help Chris out. He feels like he's slowly integrating into the friend group, and it's an undeniably good feeling.

* * *

Dan practises what he's learnt after school. After his homework is done, he sits at his desk or on his bed, and runs through the few phrases and the vowels Chris and Phil had taught him. He gets frustrated when he doesn't think he's gotten it right, but that only enforces his perseverance, pushes him to try even harder.

Charlotte walks past his bedroom one evening, a few days after Dan had gone to Phil's house. He doesn't notice her presence, too occupied remembering how many fingers he was supposed to salute when he trying to introduce himself. She watches patiently, as he repeats the movement over and over, a sense of pride filling her.

She had been worried, when Dan first told her about his new friends, because life had never been easy for him, and the last people he had cared about had torn him apart. She wouldn't be able to bear it, if he went through the same torture again. It would break him, shatter him completely, and she'd only just gotten him back to some semblance of the person he had been before his world had been turned upside down.

Charlotte wishes she could have faith and trust in his friends, that they wouldn't hurt him. But she hadn't met them yet, she has no idea what they were like apart from what Dan had told her, which was basically the barest possible details. And, because she knows her brother better than he does, better than anybody else in the world, she can tell that he is starting to develop a crush on Phil. And normally, if circumstances were different, she'd be happy for him.

But after what Dan had been through, after what had happened to him the last time he had fallen for someone ... she can't afford to not worry. She hopes that Dan will realise soon, even if it's just so that he can tell her, so that they can talk about it and figure out what to do about it. Even, just so that she can meet these new friends of his, try and read them and hopefully work out if it's safe for him this time.

She wasn't there for Dan the last time, when he was torn apart by people he cared about. She's not going to repeat the same mistakes again.

* * *

"I think it should have some more, high-pitched noises. Something a little shriller, to enforce the eeriness."

Chris looks over at Phil, who shrugs.

"And how do you suggest we do that?" Chris asks PJ.

"Well, we could use a pan-flute, or even a normal flute, I'm sure the music room has a few. Or maybe a violin?"

"I get that," Chris reasons. "But we don't know anyone who can play those instruments."

He slides his hand slowly over to PJ's, which is resting on top of the table, a motion of comfort.

"I know you want to make this film the best possible thing we can, and Phil and I do too - and none of us want to use manufactured clips we found on the deepest craters of the internet - but we do need to be realistic too."

"I'm sure we could find someone." PJ protests, almost pleading, and Chris remembers how much not being able to see the final product of their film-making escapades affects him, how his heart aches because his eyes don't work like other people's do.

He squeezes PJ's hands, and he sees Phil smile sympathetically out of the corner of his eyes.

"I'm not saying we can't do it. We'll try our best, I just don't ... don't want you to feel disappointed, okay?"

PJ nods, and Chris runs his thumb across his boyfriend's knuckles.

Phil taps Chris' shoulder, and he turns around. At first he glances at Phil's notebook, where the plot ideas and snippets of their script are scrawled in Phil's elegant, unmistakeable handwriting. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he looks back up at Phil, who's lips are pursed in concentraton or thought.

Slowly, he creates a backwards 'C' with his right hand, attaching it to his left index finger. He then touches his left thumb once, and taps the middle of his left palm with his right index and middle finger.

"Dan?" Chris translates, so that Phil knows he understood, and for PJ's benefit.

Phil nods, twice.

"We should ask Dan?" PJ translates, and Chris' nerves tremble at the hope in his voice.

"We could do that." Chris agrees, but there's a seed of doubt in his stomach, because he can't be sure of Dan just yet, can't be sure of much at the moment and he hates it.

He hates worrying about Phil and PJ too, about whether Dan will hurt them and about how PJ is feeling - his emotions as unpredictable as Chris' - but it comes with the territory, comes with the privilege of being Phil's best friend and PJ's boyfriend.

It also comes with his condition, a fact which reminds him to take his medication at lunch. Skipping out on that would only jumble him even more, cut his wires until they were frayed and alive and dangerous, until everything he tried so hard to keep under control would spin away from him, out of his reach where it would dance in front of him, taunting him.

He had done it before, and it was not an experience he enjoyed.

Not only that, but he didn't like the person he became when his condition had all of the power.

* * *

 _'I really like him.'_

Phil's teeth tug on his bottom lip, his fingers toying with the strands of fabric that have begun to fray on his childhood blanket. He's alone in his room, with only his thoughts and they're running rampant in his mind, burning a blazing trail down his insides until they come to a crashing stop at his heart.

 _'I shouldn't like him.'_ He chastises himself, because he can't afford it. It's taken him too many years just getting comfortable around his own friends. And sure, he's connected with Dan incredibly well for such a short time, and he truly thinks they could be good friends.

But becoming something _more_ is far too risky at this point. He doesn't want to lose Dan, and although he likes Dan, a lot, there's a small, nagging part of him that doesn't completely trust him yet.

And that part is usually the one with the loudest voice.


	5. See The World Through My Eyes

There are days, for many people, when the world comes crashing down around them, where the sky is filled with dark, looming clouds and getting out of bed is the worst thing imaginable. There are days, for everyone, when facing the world is not something they want to do and hiding away from it all is far more desirable.

For PJ, who is behind most of the world with only four working senses, those bad days happen more often than he'd honestly like them to.

Nothing appears to be wrong when he first wakes up. He turns off his alarm, swings back his covers, and pads to his bathroom. The sinks are all touch-sensitive, his mother hangs clean towels up for him every day in an attempt to help him retain as much independence as physcially possible, and the shower is set to a specific temperature so he never burns or freezes himself. His mum sets his uniform out for him too, although he struggles a little with the tie sometimes, and doing his hair is as simple as running his fingers through the tangles of his curls. It's a set routine, and one that helps him feel a little more independent, his lost sense not as much of a nuisance as it could be.

He trails his fingers across the wall as he makes his way through the hall, waiting until he brushes against the doorjamb to the kitchen before he turns to enter the room. He can smell everything, the smoke as it rises from the toaster, meaning it's about to pop, the citrus tang from the glass of orange juice his mum has set out for him, the waft of coffee from his father's mug. He finds himself smiling has he takes a seat at the breakfast bar, the stool scratching along the tiles as he pulls it out.

"Good morning, PJ." His mother says, sliding across a plate which, unless his nose is lying to him, has buttered toast with honey on it.

His favourite.

"Morning, Mum. Hi, Dad." PJ says, reaching with careful fingers to pick up a piece of toast.

"Hello, son." His father says. PJ can hear the low rustling of the newspaper his father's turning.

The toast crunches as PJ takes another bite. He listens to the bustle of the morning as he eats. He can hear his mum bustling around the kitchen, can hear the fridge opening and closing as she clears up the kitchen, the sliding of the drawer as she puts the toaster away. The click of her heels as she returns to the room having dressed for work, the low murmur of her and his father's voices as they whisper to each other.

"Are you ready PJ?" His mum asks. PJ nods, standing up and brushing off any possible crumbs from his top. The sink runs briefly as his dad rinses their dishes, clinking as they're stacked in the dishrack.

"Sure, Mum." PJ replies, straightening the hem of his blazer regardless of whether it is actually distorted or not.

"Have a good day at school." His dad says, and PJ wishes him a good day at work as he follows him mum out to the garage.

His fingers slide under the handle of the door, pulling it open, mindful of the wall so as not to make a dent in it. He slides into the car, his bag resting at his feet, his hand automatically reaching for the volume control.

He can hear the soft tones of his mother's laugh as she turns on the ignition. His favourite CD is still in, as he still hadn't taken it out and he wanted to see how long he could have it in for. He sings along as his mother drives, tapping his fingers on the dashboard in front of him.

As far as days go, his has gotten off to a fairly good start. Much like most other days.

But, then he gets to school, and suddenly the weight off the world has shifted onto his shoulders.

He's used to the slight murmuring of other students, especially from the younger years who haven't learnt how to respect other people just yet. Today it feels louder, though, and as he walks down the hallway to his locker he can feel their voices pressing in on him.

His lock is tricked so it clicks when it lands on the right number, but for some reason it takes him longer than normal to try and open it today and that just agitates him. He finally gets it open, his stuff for the day put away in his locker, when he realises that Chris isn't at school yet. Usually, if they don't meet at the gates, they run into each other at the lockers. He hasn't even gotten a phone call yet, though, which is worrying.

"Hey, PJ." He hears someone, Dan, say. There's a warm hand on his arm, and the touch and pressure is distinctly Phil's.

"Hi." He greets, turning to the direction of their voices.

There's a pause, and then he hears Dan ask. "Where's Chris?"

PJ shrugs, curious as to whether his concern is clear on his face or not. He'd never think it was possible, if Phil and Chris hadn't, on multiple occasions, worked out when he was sad or angry or happy or proud. Then again, they could have just been reading him, as they know him better than most.

"I don't know. I haven't heard anything from him."

The silence that follows is slightly distressing, and PJ has a strong urge to call Chris just to find out where he is, if only to ease everyone's concern.

"I'm sure he'll turn up soon." Dan says, trying to reassure them all, and PJ nods half-heartedly.

Just then, the bell rings through the school, and PJ can feel his shoulders sink under the weight of his concern.

"We should get to class." Dan says, and then there's a shuffling noise and, as far as PJ guesses, he and Phil walk to their own lockers.

PJ collects his things for class, and he's just shut his locker when he hears Dan and Phil return to his side.

"Phil just messaged Chris." Dan says. PJ nods, hoping they'll get a reply soon, and allows Dan to lead him to class.

Chris had missed school before, and there were rare, once-a-year-occurences where Chris accidentally forgot to tell PJ he was going to be late.

But he hardly ever made it to the first period without even a short voicemail. PJ knew about everything, knew when something was wrong and how to even minimise the effect it had on Chris.

He wasn't used to not knowing where Chris was, and he didn't like it.

* * *

"Hey."

PJ hears Chris' soft, unmistakeable voice, inches from his ear, and he feels like crying. He leans back against his locker for support, all the worry he had bottled up releasing with his shallow breaths. Chris laces their fingers together, and squeezes.

PJ squeezes back.

"I'm sorry I didn't call." Chris says in a quiet voice, as though he's too afraid to even speak.

"Mum needed some help for work, I had to catch a later bus."

PJ nods, and even though he feels like there's something Chris isn't telling him, he knows better than to push. Chris likes routine, he's probably a little rattled because of the changes. In times like this he needs some space, some time to swallow the disruption. He's probably worrying that he's upset PJ too, because he worries far too easily, and PJ doesn't want to make him feel worse.

"You're here now." PJ says, tugging on his boyfriend's hand to pull him closer.

"That's all that mattes." He adds, and then Chris' lips are on his and he feels like a space inside of him has been filled.

"You're not upset?" Chris asks, pulling back. His free hand reaches up to brush PJ's hair back, and the touch sends pleasant shivers down PJ's spine.

"Of course not. I would have liked you to call, but you're here now and that's more important to me than anything else." PJ admitted.

Chris kisses him again, soft and slow, and PJ almost melts into the touch.

"I agree with Phil here, guys. A little less PDA if possible."

Chris pulls away with a laugh in his throat, his hand moving from PJ's to around his waist.

"Peej is lucky because he doesn't have to see the glare you're giving us." Chris comments.

Even though PJ knows there is no cruel intent behind his words, they still strike a cord in his heart. He's never been shy about his condition, his eyes have never worked and he's never been able to see so he doesn't know what it's actually like. And most days that doesn't bother him, because it's kind of hard to miss something that he's never had.

But sometimes it hurts a little, to be different from others. It makes him feel like he's removed from the rest of the world, seperated by an invisible barrier that labels him as 'weird' and 'different' and a 'freak'. Sometimes, he wishes he could see the world the way others do.

And being reminded that he can't, can be like a stab to the heart.

"Are you okay?" Chris whispers in his ear.

"Yeah." PJ nods.

He can't concern Chris with a tiny little issue that he knows how to deal with. It would be turning a rainy day into a violent thunderstorm and there is nothing useful about that. He just needs some time to distract himself from the issue at hand and he'll be fine.

There's something about the way Chris' hand tightens on PJ's hip, in the way his fingers curl and how he pulls PJ closer, that implies he knows something is wrong, something is playing on PJ's mind. He doesn't ask what it is, he doesn't mention it at all, so PJ keeps quiet too.

If it becomes a serious problem, he'll tell Chris. But there's no point concerning him if there isn't that much to be concerned about.

He's fine.

* * *

Phil thinks something is up with PJ.

Usually, his best friend is quite relaxed and at ease, and it in turn creates a sense of calm for everyone else. Phil's not sure whether it's because he's just used to constantly watching people, or whether he just knows PJ enough to recognise when there's a problem, all he does know is that something is wrong and he doesn't know what it is.

It can't be anything to do with Chris, because as soon as he turned up PJ was clinging to him, melting against him - although Phil knows that means PJ was worried about Chris and his whereabouts, it also means he's relieved.

He doesn't think it's because of him or Dan, because it would be more noticeable, and he doesn't think either of them have done anything. PJ was okay when he got to school, so Phil is at a dead-end when it comes to figuring out what the issue actually is.

It's subtle, hidden in the slight rigidness to his shoulders and the way he leans into Chris more than usual, the way his mouth doesn't quite turn up at the corners when he smiles in the same way it usually would. The slightly melancholy tones to his voice when he speaks, the way his fingers keep tapping on his knee.

Things he only does when he's nervous, or when something is bothering him.

And it worries Phil, that he can't work out what it is.

He can't help.

* * *

"Are you okay?"

Phil looks over as Dan nudges his shoulder. They're walking home together, because as they recently discovered their homes aren't that far of a walk away from each other. Phil didn't realise he'd lost himself in thought, but what was even more surprising, and slightly warming, was that Dan noticed.

He would've thought that would be hard, considering he never speaks. Apparently, for Dan, it's not.

Phil nods, because he's fine. A little concerned about PJ, but other than that, he's okay.

Dan's eyeing him suspiciously, and Phil wonders how he's supposed to respond, as it doesn't look like Dan's going to accept nothing is wrong.

He makes a small, almost flattened oval with his right index finger and thumb, and he attatches it to the point of his left index finger. Once Dan nods in recognition, Phil swipes his right index finger down his left middle finger and across his palm to the top of his thumb.

 _PJ._

"You're worried about PJ?" Dan guesses, and Phil nods.

"Do you think something's wrong?" Dan asks, and Phil nods, before shrugging.

"You think so, but you're not sure?" Dan guesses, a little uncertain, and Phil nods, not only proud of how quickly Dan is catching on, but also surprised at how easily he seems to understand what Phil's trying to express.

"I don't know him as well as you do, obviously. And I'm not saying there isn't anything bothering him, but surely he would have said something if it was a serious problem?"

Phil purses his lips. He knows that Dan is probably right, after all PJ's a naturally easygoing person, if there was a problem he would have said something, even if it was just to Chris. But PJ had been acting relatively normal all day, laughing and smiling and joking...

But there was still something a little off about his behaviour, something not quite right. Phil would have to message him later - online, where PJ's computer could read aloud the words for him to hear. Either that, or he'd just wait until they got to school the next day - he could see if Chris had noticed anything, ask if he knew what was up.

"Hey, so, my sister ... I've told you about Charlotte?"

Phil nods, noticing that Dan had slowed down his walking. They still had a few minutes of distance left, he couldn't work out why Dan had changed his pace.

"Right. Anyway, I've told her about you and PJ and Chris, and she wants to meet you guys."

Phil raises his eyebrows slowy. He's heard a little about Dan's sister - that they live together, and that she's about four-and-a-half years older than him, and that she's Dan's best friend. Apart from that, Dan hadn't revealed too much, and Phil's interested in meeting her. Dan appears a little apprehensive though, and Phil can't work out why.

He tilts his head, encouraging Dan to go on. Dan sighs, and rubs the back of his neck.

"It's just her and I, and she means the world to me. But she can be a little forward, and I don't want you guys to be startled by anything she asks or comments. She'd never say anything mean, but she also doesn't lie or sugarcoat things very well."

Phil smiles. He likes her already. He pulls out his phone, deciding it would be much better to communicate what he wants to say throught text. Dan, getting the memo, waits patiently.

 _'I'd love to meet her, she sounds awesome. And I'm sure that PJ and Chris won't mind. It takes a lot to offend us, Dan, we've built tough shells. Like turtles.'_

Dan laughs as he reads the message off Phil's phone.

"I'll talk to her tonight." He says. "Work out a time that suits her too. I don't think she'll say no to the idea, though."

Phil grins, and Dan smiles too.

 _'Sounds like a plan.'_

Phil puts his phone away, and he sighs quietly as Dan brushes his shoulder again, his teeth pressing down lightly on his bottom lip. Phil glances over, wishing as soon as he does that he hadn't, because it sends the beat of his heart into overdrive.

He thinks his hopes of ignoring his crush on Dan are becoming quite pointless, as the harder he tries the easier it becomes to notice all the adorable, little things about Dan; like the way his eyes sparkle when he smiles or the little twitch his nose gives when his thinking or concentrating on something.

He's hopless. And it shouldn't make him feel so happy.

But somehow, it does.

Somehow, Dan does.


End file.
